What Could Be

As I lay facing the setting sun, watching the golden rays drain from the sky, I think about all the actions that led me to this moment. Many decisions were regrettable - an equal number were moments to be proud of. Even more than those combined, however, were moments of neutrality. But we don’t remember the moments we’re impartial to particularly well. We remember moments of embarrassment or excitement significantly easier. Sometimes I wonder what this life might look like if that balance shifted somehow. Had I made some worse decisions, what would I see in a sunset? What about better decisions? 

‘What if’ doesn’t matter, Cody. Hypotheticals are a waste. You need to focus on the future and improving the way you interact with the world. The logical part of my brain asserts confidently. It might be right, but…

If the past didn’t matter, our memories would be shorter. We are meant to remember and ask ‘what if?’. It makes us human. The curious part of the brain retorts. It, too, has a point. And, who hasn’t wondered what if? It’s why we’re so fascinated with hypotheticals. There’s a part of us that wants to know how to make things better for the future. And to do that, we need to remember the past.

The sun retreats further past the crest of the mountainside. Dusk inches closer over the opposite horizon. A wonderful view for this time of year - a sky painted the colors of the rainbow as the light falls over the stony peaks. Autumn leaves being carried down by gusts of wind. It’s symbolic in a way. This part of my life can finally be over. I can move on to greener pastures. I can let the wind carry me wherever it may blow. I can be free of the past - limited only but what I could do next. But this picturesque sunset… I don’t want to leave it behind. There’s a comfortingly warm glow to nostalgia. Unfortunately, there’s also a piercingly cold sting to regret. But what is one to do? I take a deep breath of the brisk Fall air. The night time chill runs down my spine. The future could be so bright. It could. It could… What do I do..?

As I reevaluate the pros and cons of leaving the valley, twilight begins to creep upwards overhead. There’s a new moon tomorrow. The same day I planned to leave. I never quite believed in supernatural mystique, but there was a reason we began to say ‘the stars align’: Hope. That’s why. When everything comes together and the future looks promising. That is a feeling I desired now more than anything. If only it was that simple.

But this sunset gave me hope. A hope that, no matter where I would go next, I would find comfort in the beauty of the natural world around me. Would. But what am I leaving behind? Do I still have the opportunity to right some wrongs? These questions were only a few of the barrage I endured that night. Drifting away under the stars of Cathedral Ledge, I kept coming back to the subject of time. Of times long past - of times yet to come. I couldn’t go back, but pressing on seemed uncertain. 

How do people deal with this? I asked myself in the uncertain hours beyond nightfall. There are so many people I wish I could consult about what to do next. My mom, for one, would almost certainly have an answer. She always knew what to say. My heart races just thinking about her. What I wouldn’t give to feel her comforting embrace in this moment. To just allow myself to sink into her loving arms… Wave after wave of endless regrets and anxieties crash upon the fringes of my mind. I can only address so many alone…

‘There’s no better place to begin anew than now.’ My blissful optimism assures me. I knew at that moment this part of me was right. The best time to renew my hope was five minutes ago. The second best time is now. But…

‘You cannot just let go of your past. It will weigh you down the more you ignore it. You must allow yourself to feel the cold pangs of regret. You need to allow yourself the time to make amends.’ The emotionally adept side of me interjects. It, once again, makes a compelling argument. I cannot detach myself from my past. I cannot simply ignore it either. I have to confront it. It may as well be on my terms.

The night grows colder and I still can’t sleep. The regrets overpower the hope and my idealist illusion shatters. I cannot leave - I have things I need to do here. People I need to see. But I cannot return to the past, I cannot go back to make amends. I have to do that going forward. It’d be so easy if I could go back. I know exactly what I’d do. I know the places I’d go right down to the minute. I would go back to see my grandparents before the pandemic. I would go back to tell my mom that I love her. I would go back and tell my sister not to leave that frozen over night. I would… would… would. 

But I can’t. It’s not possible. So what should I do now? I can’t see my grandparents anymore. I can’t talk to my mother, my sister, or my friends. I’ve already passed the point of no return. So what should I do..? This single question wracks my brain for what feels like hours. The restlessness begins to wear my mind down. The reckless uncertainty of the future feels so tumultuous when compared to the settled nature of the past. But the remorseful feelings of the past are antithetical to the blissful hope for what’s to come. What should I do..? should… should.

…

. . .

.  .  .

I awaken at the back of a church - on the other side of a confession booth. I look down to see the garb of a priest and hear a conversation with a woman speaking in a familiar voice: 

“My son is too far gone, Father. I don’t know how to help him.” 

“We don’t always know what the best thing to do is, but we must allow him the opportunity to talk to you on his terms.” 

My eyes twinge. The vision fades. 

I am at a vacation home in Florida. An elderly woman in knitted garments walks up to me holding her smartphone and she shakes her head. She rests a comforting hand on my shoulder, but the disappointment is too much. I cover my eyes with my palm and tears slowly form, just to fall down my wrinkled face. 

My eyes grow heavy. The vision fades. 

I am at a New Years party in the city. A family friend walks up to me and offers me a drink. I take his offer, not thinking twice. I trust him. Of course I do, we’ve known him for years! I feel the drunkenness come on quick - even quicker than usual. My head feels heavier than normal. I search for the friend I came here with to be beside someone I know, but it’s too late. I pass out.

My eyes go bloodshot. I wake up in a sweat. I am crying.

It wasn’t real. I tell myself. It’s just a bad dream. 

I sob. That’s what Mom would’ve said. If only I could go back and hear her voice one last time… could… could…